A change in the weather

This morning I read Henry Normal's poem Storm Gathering, a brilliant sequence of observations which paint a vivid picture of a particular day.  It inspired me to look outside, to try to capture the essence of this unique and rather winsome morning. 


The hush of a morning, huddled under low clouds, the sudden change striking after days of dry heat. 

The fine opacity of encroaching mist; muffled voices calling out greetings

The sporadic drone of a chainsaw trimming trees.

The blush of distant woodland darkening into bronze under its cap of cloud.  

Tiny domed raindrops clustered on the back of fallen leaves, cloaking the garden in nature's bubble wrap. 

Pigeons huddling damply, waiting out the rain while wiser birds stay sheltered.

Cattle lying down, stoic beneath the gusty drizzle.

The rhythmic swish of car tyres, speeding down the slickened hill. 

The comfort of a cushioned armchair, the dry side of the window.

The mug of coffee steaming;  the temptation of a closed book within easy reach. 


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